


Wear My Tattoo

by Chazzam



Series: The Sidhe [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:05:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1560842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chazzam/pseuds/Chazzam





	1. Chapter 1

*Kurt's wedding attire is modeled on 2 pieces of Sidhe fanart by Muchacha11 on tumblr, while Blaine's is modeled partially on her drawing of him and partially on a wedding drawing by Miss-atrocity on tumblr (and Kurt's outfit in her drawing is modeled on Muchacha's – I fucking love fandom).  Muchacha's art can be found [HERE](http://muchacha11.tumblr.com/post/7183484960/kurt-the-nymph-from-the-sidhe-by-chazzam-in) and [HERE](http://muchacha11.tumblr.com/post/7239242388/extension-to-my-nymph-wedding-picture-because-i), and I unfortunately no longer have a link for Miss-atrocity's art, but you should really check it out on my [Sidhe fanart page](http://chazzam.tumblr.com/sidhefanart) (just do a ctrl+F search for Miss-atrocity and you'll see it) - it's absolutely stunning.  There is also a lovely, sexy drawing based upon this fic by Vasheren, which you can find [HERE](http://vasheren.tumblr.com/post/8987886711/fanart-for-chazzams-the-sidhe-or-rather-fanart).

* * *

 

~000~

 

 

"You sure you don't want to jerk off? That always helps me when I'm nervous."

Blaine glared at Puck.

"Puck, it's my wedding day. No, I don't want to...I want to save myself for Kurt."

Puck snorted. "It's a little late for that, friend."

Blaine sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall. He knew why he was keyed up; at Kurt's insistence they hadn't seen each other for a week, other than their brief meeting after the soul-walks. And that brief meeting had only made it worse; he had seen Kurt, only to have this powerful conversation about the intense spiritual experience that each of them had had, the experience that led Blaine to know in his mind what he had always known in his heart - that this was not just some run of the mill little until-death kind of forever. This was a big forever. This was  _forever,_  across time and distance and life and death. Even if there came a time when every sun burnt out, when every universe became a cold and lifeless place, even then their essences would curl around one another in some small corner of the void. Even then they would find each other.

They would  _always_  find each other.

It was such an intense revelation, and one he'd had on a subconscious level once before according to both Kurt and Puck and his guide. But now he remembered. Now he could close his eyes and actually recall a detail here or there of those other lives he had seen. There were far too many to remember any single one in true detail; most he just recalled by feel.  _The one that feels really short and sad,_ or  _The_ _one that feels like the beach, drunk on nectar,_  or  _The one where I can't see but everything feels so warm._

They talked a bit and then went through the formality ("Yes, I both desire and choose to join with you for my lifetime," was what they had to say before parting ways to make it official, though the promise seemed decidedly measly after what Blaine had seen on his soul-walk). Blaine had then tried to pull Kurt close, but Kurt had slipped out of his arms gracefully and bid him goodnight without so much as a kiss.

Kurt had looked so delicious that Blaine thought he was going to absolutely lose his mind, the worst of it being that he had already decided not to relieve his aching tension until the wedding night ( or perhaps the wedding afternoon? They could slip out early...surely no one would notice...).

And now Puck was trying to convince him to...

"No," Blaine reiterated firmly. "I'll...I'll be fine. I'm not really nervous anyway."

Lies. Blaine was incredibly nervous. He knew he had no reason to be, that they had pledged themselves to this completely, but he wouldn't feel wholly satisfied until Kurt wore his tattoo. Until it was there, permanent and unique and etched into his very flesh, everything could still go horribly wrong. Kurt could still change his mind.

Blaine took a deep breath and downed the glass of nectar that Puck handed him. Yes, he was actually willing to risk a drink from Puck. If that didn't say something about his nerves, then nothing would.

* * *

Kurt was fuming when he left the supply store.

He shouldn't have even gone in, he should have been bathing and rubbing himself with fragrant oils until there was no doubt whatsoever that Blaine would be downright drunk off of him by the time they were alone together. The week had been  _so_  difficult, and Kurt wanted to make the wait worth it in every way.

Blaine had said he wanted a traditional Sidhe ceremony, had waved away Kurt's suggestion that they incorporate some Villaluan elements to make it feel a bit more balanced, and this was part of the Sidhe tradition. Well, going without seeing one another for a week was perhaps an extreme interpretation, but refraining from sexual activity for a week before the ceremony was required. In the end, Kurt had decided that avoiding one another altogether would be the only way to make it work, because they'd  _never_  gone a week without making love before, and Kurt wasn't confident that they could keep their hands off of one another if they had to see each other every day.

But now? Kurt had survived the week but was on the very verge of sabotaging it altogether regardless. His seamstress had needed to go to the shop for some last-minute bits and ends and Kurt, restless, had decided to accompany her. As he perused some of the more exotic-looking human foodstuffs, wondering if he should get some for Blaine, he had heard that boy – that  _horrible boy_  speaking with his friend.

Kurt hated that boy. He hated the way he looked at Blaine, the way he simply helped himself to his whole body with his greedy green eyes. He hated how he laughed like bells whenever Blaine said something charming, which of course was  _often,_  and he hated how he always found a way to stand just a bit too close, managed to find an excuse to touch Blaine's shoulder or arm, the way he talked to Blaine like he didn't see the promise pendant, like he didn't see Kurt glowering beside him.

Kurt knew that it was only a matter of time before he simply lost control and  _unleashed_  on the boy, and if it weren't his wedding day, today would be the day.

Because the boy was talking about Blaine at that very moment.

"He wears a promise pendant," the boy's friend was admonishing him.

The boy laughed. "Pendants come off, Rya. They aren't tattoos."

"Well, it will be a tattoo soon enough. And surely even you couldn't stoop  _that_ low."

The boy laughed again. "Oh, please. You see how he looks at me. I know his type; he's just got a Sidhe fetish. He'll get bored and come looking for a distraction soon enough. And tattoo or no tattoo, I think my chances of getting to enjoy him are quite good."

Rya gasped. "Oh, you're  _horrible,"_ she said, giggling slightly. Well, at least she'd got that part right.

Kurt was nearly blind with rage.

This boy had asked if she had seen how Blaine looked at him? At  _him?_

_I'll show you what lust looks like on Blaine, boy. It's something you'll only see if you catch him looking at me. Because I am his, and he is mine. MINE._

And that is when Kurt nearly cracked. That is when he nearly ran out of the store to look for Blaine, so that he could bring him back and throw him down and take him in front of this boy, so the boy could see how much Blaine loved it, how the only name Blaine ever called out in the throes of ecstasy was Kurt's. Blaine would  _never_  need a distraction, because Kurt would never give him reason to look elsewhere. Starting now. Right now.

Oh, gods. It had been a week. What if it was too much? What if Blaine  _had_  been giving appreciative looks to the horrible boy? What if...

No. The idea that Blaine couldn't go a week without him before he started looking elsewhere was insane. Blaine was loyal and Blaine was in love with him. And Kurt wanted to absolutely  _murder_  that horrible, horrible boy.

Luckily it wasn't another moment before his seamstress was pulling him out of the shop, nattering on about all the things they needed to do to be ready for the ceremony. Kurt glanced back at the boy as they departed, and he caught his eye for a brief moment, the boy seeming to pale visibly at the rage in his eyes.

Kurt was still fuming when he left the store, but he let it trail away. He knew Blaine would never betray him, but still. It would just feel so wonderful, so  _right_  when Blaine finally wore his tattoo. The the world would know that he belonged with Kurt. That their commitment was more than words spoken, that it had become a physical part of them both.

And if that horrible boy at the supply store even thought about making a pass at Kurt's  _husband,_  well, Kurt might just have to destroy him. And that was that.

* * *

At first Blaine had just planned to wear whatever the traditional Sidhe wedding garb might be, but some of his human friends took him in hand and insisted that he reconsider.

"Blaine, you're not a Sidhe. And you have nothing to be ashamed of," Sanya told him. "It isn't human nature that is inherently corrupt, it's Villaluan culture. There's nothing wrong with staying connected to your roots."

Blaine had sighed bitterly. "Sanya, I could never marry someone I loved in a Villaluan ceremony, even if that someone had turned out to be human. I have no desire to scramble for scraps. They can have their so-called marriages where men trade women like cattle. Marriage for The Sidhe is about deep love and carefully thought-out commitment. All I want is-"

"All right, fine, I'll say it. You would look absolutely ridiculous in one of those togas."

Blaine blinked. "Togas?"

Rynn, one of the sweet older human men that lived next door to Kurt and Blaine, stifled a giggle.

"It's actually quite a breathtaking garment," Kiri assured him, "on a Sidhe." Kiri worked on Sanya's farm with Blaine. Her husband was a Sidhe.

"I...but...a  _toga? Really?"_  Blaine was sure Kurt would look beautiful no matter what he wore, but the idea of a toga as a wedding garment struck him as incredibly odd.

"You'll understand when you see him in it," Sanya assured him. "But...I don't know. It really just works so well with the lines of their bodies and the way that they  _move_...you know. But you...I say we dress you like a proper Villaluan groom. If nothing else, just think about how much it would bother the Followers of Frilau to see you dressed all fine to marry an elfin boy in Khryslee."

Blaine smiled. That  _was_  a fun thought.

When the time finally arrived to get dressed for the ceremony, Puck handed him each article of clothing with a snort.

"You're getting married in  _this?_ What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Shut up," Blaine muttered. "I don't even know why I asked you to be my groom's assistant."

"I do," Puck said, grinning. "It's because if it weren't for me, you and Kurt wouldn't even be together right now."

Blaine stared at him. "You honestly believe that."

"I honestly  _know_  that. If I hadn't sent you along on Kurt's soul-walk back in the good old North tower-"

"Puck. I...you can't...you  _drugged_  me, Puck!"

"Hey. I was looking out for you. I always wanted Kurt to go for you instead of  _Firae._  Gods, with that stick up his ass there probably wouldn't even be room for Kurt to-"

" _Okay,_  Puck. Let's just...just help me with these laces, all right?"

Because there were so very many laces. There were laces  _everywhere._ Blaine had been fitted with perfectly tailored long breeches in soft, light gray, a crisp white shirt and a charcoal-colored waistcoat. Like Kurt, he would be barefoot.

The thing was, when Sanya had told the seamstress to outfit Blaine like a proper Villaluan groom, she had taken the request quite literally. There was not a button in sight, though when properly laced, Blaine did have to admit that the clothing fit him quite well. The lacing allowed the garments to follow the lines of Blaine's body perfectly, highlighting all of his best assests (of which there were more than Blaine realized), and creating an elegant overall presentation. When he was fully dressed, Puck tucked a rose - thankfully free of thorns- behind his ear.

"There." Puck looked satisfied. "Now you at least look  _something_  like a proper groom. Breeches, Blaine, really? A  _shirt?"_

Blaine rolled his eyes.

"You do look...ah...nice, though," Puck conceded. "I think Kurt will like it."

"Yeah?" Blaine asked, his nerves suddenly grabbing hold of him again.

"Yeah. You want another drink before you go out there?"

Blaine eyed the bottle in Puck's hand suspiciously. "Puck, if you even  _think_  about-"

"Blaine, I wouldn't do anything like that to you today."

"Might I remind you of a certain note that you-"

"Blaine." Blaine looked up in surprise at the tone. Puck was steadfastly avoiding his eyes, and was paying far too much attention to straightening Blaine's already-perfectly-straight collar.

"Not...not today, all right? I wouldn't do anything that could ruin  _today."_

Blaine could have sworn he heard Puck's voice shake when he said it.

He took the drink.

* * *

Finally, it was time.

The ceremony was quite different from any that Blaine had seen in Villalu. He had been to the clearing before with Kurt; they had chosen this spot together because it was beautiful and serene and somehow radiated intimacy. It felt different with all of those people, though. Suddenly Blaine felt very nervous. The fact that he was actually going to be holding his heart out, completely defenseless and in a public setting, hit him hard. He exhaled slowly and slid to the ground, his back against the smooth trunk of a deep orange flower-tree.

Blaine could glimpse the crowd through the scattered trees that stood between himself and the clearing. The guests were arranged in a circle, and he and Kurt would be entering the clearing from opposite directions and meeting in the middle of the circle. He had already craned his neck, trying to spot even a hint of Kurt's presence on the other side, and when he didn't see him all of his worries flared afresh. What if Kurt wasn't there? Oh God, what if Kurt changed his mind? What if-

"All set," Puck called to him brightly, jogging over to the tree where Blaine was sitting. He looked down at Blaine with a furrowed brow. "Hey, are you-"

"Is he there?" Blaine demanded abruptly.

Puck stared at him.

"Puck. Please. Just...just tell me Kurt is there. Tell me he's going through with this. Tell me-"

Puck crouched down in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Blaine. He's there. And he's just about as nervous as you are. Just...you need to get up. It's almost time."

Blaine looked up at Puck and blinked slowly.

"Oh my God, Puck," he whispered. "I'm getting married."

Puck grinned. "Yeah. Can't say I understand it, but yeah. Now get the hell out there and do this so you can finally get laid again and stop being such a bitch all the time."

Blaine rose unsteadily to his feet. Someone, and it couldn't have been him but he didn't know who else it  _could_  be, started moving his legs, one after the other, advancing him toward the edge of the clearing. Puck ran ahead of him and signaled to someone, and there was the briefest pause before fine, clear music filled the air. Blaine continued moving forward until he reached the edge of the clearing, where Sanya was waiting with a watery smile to adorn him with flowers. She looped a chain of daisies over his head, and adjusted the rose behind his ear before placing a delicate crown of tiny white and red blossoms on his head. She handed him a lavish bouquet and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. To Blaine's surprise, Puck swept in on the other side and kissed his cheek too. And then, without a word, they moved away from him and joined the circle of guests, each guiding the crowd in opposite directions just enough to create a space for Blaine to walk through.

And then he saw him.

Kurt was approaching from the other side, directly across from him. When their eyes met they froze, and it took everything in Blaine's power not to simply run to him and lift him into his arms.

He had never seen Kurt look more incredible. It was too much, simply too much, and Blaine didn't know what to do with all that he was feeling. Intense love, deep arousal, simple awe. This man was going to be his lifemate. This  _beautiful fucking man_  was going to spend his life with Blaine. It was real. It was actually real.

And yes, now he understood what Sanya had meant about the toga suiting the Sidhe body and, Blaine silently amended, Kurt's body in particular. It wasn't anything like he had imagined.

The garment was white, but the fabric it was made from looked almost like a liquid. It was silky and slinky and it shimmered a bit in the afternoon sun, casting hints of of blue and crimson and violet with Kurt's movements. The toga was draped across a single shoulder, exposing a fair bit (but not nearly enough) of Kurt's chest, another piece draping across his upper arm on the opposite side. The garment skimmed Kurt's waist, pooled low on one exposed hip, and hung below his thighs in the front, exposing a fair bit (but not nearly enough) of Kurt's legs. Blaine wasn't exactly sure how the fabric all fit together, but it was longer in the back, trailing behind Kurt. Kurt was also adorned with flowers; he wore a crown of white and pale purple orchids and carried a bouquet, and the shoulder where the fabric of the garment was gathered was peppered with white and yellow blossoms.

And against the shimmer of the white fabric and Kurt's moonlight-pale skin, his promise pendant seemed to almost glow with vibrancy, screaming of his intent. Kurt was there to marry Blaine. He undeniably _was._

Blaine was very proud of himself for not simply falling to his knees and sobbing with pure, senseless emotion.

The only thing that kept him on his feet was the fact that Kurt looked just as overcome. He was staring at Blaine, his gaze moving across his body, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

Finally, they both seemed to remember where they were, and they began to move again. Each man kept his steps deliberately slow so as not to physically fling themselves at one another, and when they finally met in the middle and faced each other, they could barely withstand it.

Kurt reached out and clasped Blaine's hands in his own. And that was when Blaine couldn't hold back anymore, and he started to cry.

And that made Kurt cry.

And amongst the crowd, though he'd never admit it, it also made Puck cry.

* * *

There were two priestesses, as was tradition. They asked Kurt and Blaine to explain to all those assembled why they had asked them there, and to affirm that they were indeed mated on a soul level.

They could barely form the words.  _We have asked you here because I love him too much not to celebrate it. We have asked you here because he is my heart and my all and life would be toneless without him. We have asked you here to see our commitment made flesh._

and

_You are not one of the potential mates of my soul. You are the only true mate that my soul ever has or ever will know. I never knew I was missing you until I found you, and when I found you it ached to know that I had ever lived life without you._

They spoke their words in Villaluan, and one of the priestesses translated into Elfin. And then both priestesses asked, one in each language,

"Will you wear his tattoo for as long as your body pumps blood?"

The traditional answer was yes.

Their answer was "Forever."

Because to confine their promise to these bodies, these lives felt far too small.

* * *

The reception struck Blaine as odd. Well, not the reception necessarily, but the fact that he was not in attendance. The reception was a party for the friends and family of the couple, a celebration of all those that were loved by the two but who were not mated to them. Kurt explained it as a gesture that essentially communicated "you're important to me too, but less so." And while the guests celebrated, the couple followed the priestesses into a hutlike structure of large, flat grasses.

Before entering, however, Blaine grabbed Kurt by the arm.

Blaine had been happy to have a Sidhe ceremony. But it had been missing one key element that he hadn't realized he would miss so much.

He smiled, and held Kurt's face in both of his hands and kissed him.

Kurt slid his hands over Blaine's, softly pressing his fingers into the spaces between his husband's fingers as he deepened the kiss.

His  _husband._

When they pulled back, they instinctively slid into a tight hug.

"I'm in love with you," Blaine whispered, "and you look so beautiful today it kind of hurts."

Kurt squeezed him tighter. "So do you. You just...you're so perfect. Gods, Blaine, is this really happening? Are we really here? Can I really _have_ you?"

Blaine pulled back enough to look Kurt in the eye. Slowly, his face spread into a wide, silly grin.

"Hi, husband," he whispered.

Kurt attempted to roll his eyes, but he couldn't manage it. He couldn't help but smile just as wide.

"Hi, husband," he replied, his cheeks flushing prettily.


	2. Chapter 2

The tattoos hurt.

Blaine and Kurt lay on narrow tables, side by side, their clasped hands resting on a cushioned table between them. There was a very specific way in which the tattoos had to be done, the two priestesses switching back and forth between each of them with practiced skill and chanting in a language that even Kurt didn't understand.

It was slow and it was painful but they were holding hands and gazing into one another's eyes and just smiling, and that made it beautiful.

When the tattoos were complete, the priestesses painted over them with a cool, clear fluid. They said that the fluid came from some type of flower (of  _course_  it did, Blaine mused to himself) and that it would protect the tattoos while they healed. The fluid gave the colors in the tattoos as slightly dull appearance, but the priestesses assured them that the layer would fall away naturally after a couple of weeks.

Their guests threw flowers as they walked from the hut to their waiting carriage – the same carriage they had brought from Villalu over a year ago. They sat in one of the plush velvet seats together, enjoying the rare treat of being alone together in the back of the carriage while someone else drove.

They waved dutifully to their guests until they were out of range, and then they fell together, their kisses hard and desperate and demanding. Blaine climbed into Kurt's lap and straddled him, but held back from letting things grow too heated. He wanted their first time as lifemates to be at the home they shared and in their bed, and he knew that Kurt did too.

Nonetheless, neither of them were sure they were going to last. It felt so good, and it had been so long...

They kissed and kissed, pushing against the sweet torture of their self-imposed restraint, and before they knew it they were home.

Alone.

With a stocked pantry and a blooming garden and all of their responsibilities taken care of.

For a whole week.

They were both absolutely amazed that they managed to make it to the bedroom.

* * *

Blaine almost carried Kurt up the stairs and then absolutely did  _throw_  him onto the bed. Kurt landed with a surprised little laugh, which caught in his throat when he met Blaine's eyes.

Blaine looked hungry.  _Starving._  He was panting, and unruly curls were falling into his eyes.

"Kurt," he moaned. "God, you look so...just... _fuck."_

Blaine didn't often swear. But he was too overcome to say anything more articulate. _  
_

Because Kurt was lying back, his torso propped up slightly with his elbows behind him. The silky fabric of his tunic looked like it had been painstakingly arranged in its current position, like Kurt was pure _art._  It was slipping off of both of his shoulders, and pulled taut against his stomach, outlining every detail. The hip that had been almost exposed was now fully exposed, and the material pooled around his thighs, the outline of his rapidly growing erection also quite visible. The fabric was gleaming white and Kurt was flushed pink, his lips kiss-swollen and nearly red and his flower crown rumpled and askew, petals shed throughout his tussled hair.

Blaine climbed onto the bed and knelt beside Kurt, splaying his hands across his milky thighs. Kurt moved to pull the garment off completely, but Blaine stilled his hands.

"No," he said softly. "You...you look so amazing. Do you mind just...leaving it on?"

Kurt arched an eyebrow at him, but settled back down on his elbows with a barely concealed smirk.

"This really isn't fair, you know. You have all those laces..."

"Don't worry about me yet," Blaine breathed. "Just lie down."

Blaine pressed gently against Kurt's chest, and Kurt brought his arms to his sides and lay down completely.

Blaine moved down Kurt's body, pausing to press a small kiss to an expanse of skin every now and then until he reached Kurt's feet. And then he took one perfect foot and caressed it, felt the callouses on the bottom from Kurt going barefoot so much of the time giving way to the impossibly soft skin on the top of the foot. Blaine traced the muscles and tendons gently with his thumb as Kurt flexed involuntarily, then he kissed each of his toes, his instep, his ankle.

And then he paid the same reverent attention to Kurt's other foot.

Blaine moved slowly up Kurt's body, licking along his lithe, muscular calves and nibbling softly at the backs of his knees. He parted Kurt's thighs and gave kisses up the insides that were so feather-light they made Kurt squirm.

Blaine gently lifted the fabric of the toga over Kurt's cock and kissed the tip before turning his attention to the junctions of Kurt's thighs and pelvis, and then moving to his stomach.

"Blaine," Kurt murmured. "Are you going to..."

"Shhh," Blaine responded softly. "Will you just...let me..."

Kurt gave a very contented-sounding sigh and pushed the fingers of one hand through Blaine's hair, keeping it there while Blaine continued to move up his body.

Blaine traced the contours of Kurt's stomach over the fabric with his fingers, loving the feel of the silky fabric and Kurt's slightly twitching muscles beneath. With his other hand, he stroked up the side of Kurt's exposed left hip.

He lifted Kurt's hand from his hair, and held Kurt's hands in his, allowing him to lace their fingers together. He kissed Kurt's fingers, the kisses landing partially on his own hands in the process. Blaine slid his hands up Kurt's arms, nosing the tunic aside to get at his left nipple and take it into his mouth.

Kurt made a soft sound of pleasure, both of his hands finding their way into Blaine's hair this time. Blaine sucked gently at first, slowly increasing the suction as his tongue followed Kurt's areola with firm pressure.

" _Gods, Blaine,"_  Kurt moaned, arching his back and tightening his grip on Blaine's curls.

Blaine moved back, blowing a bit of cool air onto the nipple and making Kurt mewl before sliding the fabric back over it and pulling at the tunic to reveal Kurt's other nipple instead. Kurt's breath caught at the feel of the slinky fabric on his wet and over-sensitized nipple, and then caught again when Blaine took Kurt's right nipple into his mouth and proceeded to give it the same treatment.

Kurt was starting to writhe, and he was so hard it almost hurt. While he loved how Blaine was mapping and worshiping his body, he couldn't stand how Blaine's body was completely hidden from view. He would be able to stand the gorgeous torture of what Blaine was doing if it were his hot skin instead of his tunic and breeches that kept brushing against Kurt, and as dashing as Blaine looked today, that outfit needed to come off  _now._

When Blaine lifted his head again, Kurt caught his face in his hands before he could lower it to Kurt's chest.

"Blaine," Kurt gasped, "please. I need you naked. It's fine if you want me to leave this on, but  _I_  need  _you_  to be naked.  _Please."_

Blaine smiled, and almost seemed to blush a little. "Of course, Kurt," he said, and the soft warmth in his eyes made Kurt absolutely melt.

Blaine unlaced and removed his waistcoat and then began on his tunic, and Kurt sat up to help. Blaine smirked a bit and shook his head, pressing Kurt back down into the mattress gently.

"No. Stay there. Just like that. Just watch."

Kurt's face fell into what could only be described as a slight pout. "That's not fair," he said sulkily.

"Fair?" Blaine asked, quirking an eyebrow as he slowly loosened the laces at his throat, Kurt's eyes not leaving the progress of the laces for a second.

"Well, I don't think us not seeing one another for a week was very fair. I don't think it was very fair that you didn't kiss me after we talked about our soul-walks."

Kurt scowled. "Do you think it was any easier for me? I hated not seeing you. I hated not kissing you. But I didn't want us to start something we wouldn't be able to stop."

"I know," Blaine murmured. "Here, I guess I do need your help with these."

He held his wrists in front of Kurt, and watched his slender fingers work at the knots in the laces there.

When Kurt had loosened the laces all the way to Blaine's elbows, Blaine finally slid the tunic off completely.

Kurt stared at him like it was the very first time he had ever seen Blaine's naked chest, his pupils wide and his eyes dark.

"God, Kurt," Blaine whispered. "You look like you want to eat me."

"I do," Kurt confirmed.

"I thought you didn't eat flesh."

"I'll make an exception."

They held one another's gaze for a moment that felt wet and heavy and weeks-long, both of them just the slightest whisper away from breaking down and turning completely animalistic and fucking each other blind.

But they didn't.

Because after the long wait, after what they had done today, how their lives and bodies had been forever altered in honor of their commitment to one another, they needed more than that. They had the rest of the night, the week, their  _lives_  for animalistic. But this was their first time together as husbands, and this had to be about making love.

Blaine closed his eyes and willed his breath to become steady.

"I haven't touched myself all week, Blaine," Kurt said. Blaine whimpered.

"Me neither," was his whispered reply.

After a moment, Kurt said "I still want you naked."

Blaine laughed softly and opened his eyes.

"Right. I'm sorry. I just had to take a moment. Do you...do you mind just watching? I just...I love how you look right now, and I...I don't know." Blaine looked slightly sheepish.

Kurt's eyes shone and he smiled wide. "I'll stay right here," he promised.

Blaine slowly unlaced his breeches, which had grown uncomfortably tight quite awhile ago, but he had been too caught up in exploring Kurt to do anything about it. Kurt watched him, barely blinking, and then reached his hand down and began to stroke himself very, very slowly.

" _Kurt,"_ Blaine moaned, as Kurt did the one thing in the world that could possibly make him look sexier.

Blaine peeled the tight-fitting trousers away, and Kurt sighed with delight at the fact that Blaine wasn't wearing any undershorts, speeding his hand up slightly.

Kicking the breeches away quickly, Blaine climbed back onto the bed and caught both of Kurt's hands in his own. He pinned them on either side of Kurt's head and stared down at his husband's face. He kissed him once, very softly.

"I wasn't done," Blaine whispered, and released Kurt's hands, his lips attaching themselves to Kurt's tattoo, kissing it gently but thoroughly before moving to Kurt's clavicle.

Kurt  _(finally)_  ran his hands across the smooth skin of Blaine's back while Blaine kissed his way up to Kurt's neck, his hands stroking up and down Kurt's sides, his heart pounding at how arousing it was to feel the alternating textures of silky soft fabric and Kurt's silky soft skin.

He nipped at the underside of Kurt's chin, and then covered the bites with kisses. When he reached Kurt's face their eyes found one another and they both smiled.

"Hi," Blaine said softly, carefully brushing a strand of hair out of Kurt's eyes.

"Hi," Kurt responded fondly, "my lifemate."

Blaine's smile widened. "I like the sound of that."

"I like saying it." He lifted his chin toward Blaine and Blaine lowered his lips to Kurt's. They kissed gently, softly, Blaine settling his body on top of Kurt's, Kurt's legs wrapping around him.

Blaine groaned as Kurt thrust up against him. "Hey," he muttered, "no fair. I haven't even gotten to your ears yet."

"I thought we weren't concerning ourselves with what's fair, Blaine," Kurt said with a smile, digging his heels into Blaine's ass as he thrust up again, the groin-to-groin contact making them both moan against one another's mouths.

Blaine lifted his face from Kurt's. "But your ears are so sexy," he very nearly growled, propping himself up on his elbows and using his hands to massage the tips of Kurt's ears between his thumbs and forefingers.

Kurt's eyes fluttered closed, and he let out a tiny cry as he arched his back. It hadn't taken Blaine long to learn how incredibly sensitive Kurt's ears actually were, especially in the spot where he was stroking.

Blaine shifted, replacing one of his hands with his mouth. Kurt gasped and clutched at Blaine's back, thrusting up against him as he sucked gently, tracing the sensitive flesh with his tongue.

By the time Blaine switched to the other ear, his fingers stroking over the wet flesh of the ear his lips had just left behind, Kurt was positively writhing.

"B-Blaine," he gasped, "please... _please..."_

"Please what, Kurt?" Blaine murmured against the flesh of Kurt's ear, his tone maddeningly playful.

Unable to truly articulate anything, Kurt reached behind himself to grasp at the wall. Shamelessly but usefully, there was a vine heavy with red flowers growing there.

Kurt found one and plucked it, thankful that he managed to get ahold of it without tearing it open. Trembling, he gently pulled Blaine's hand from his ear and pressed the flower into his palm.

Blaine pulled his mouth from Kurt's other ear and gazed down at him. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you look right now?" He murmured.

Kurt smiled. "So do you. Blaine, you...it's as if you're  _glowing.""_

Blaine smiled back at him, his eyes bright with moisture. "I don't doubt that I am. It's you, Kurt. You  _make_  me glow. You...you're my husband. You're my  _lifemate._  I...it's just so much."

Kurt felt a warm tear splash down onto his cheek, and he lifted his head to kiss Blaine.

Blaine cradled the back of Kurt's head in his hand as they kissed, and then gently lowered him back onto the bed, following him.

"I love you so much," Blaine whispered against Kurt's lips. "It almost hurts I love you so much."

Kurt kissed him again.

"I love you too. Just as much, Blaine. I still can't completely believe that you're mine."

Blaine kissed him again.

"Always, Kurt. Always and forever."

"Blaine...will you make love to me?"

Blaine smiled. "Will you leave the toga on?"

Kurt laughed as Blaine sat up and began to unfurl the flower. He stared at Kurt as he spread his legs, and Blaine couldn't believe that he'd managed not to come already. Kurt looked more than beautiful. He looked utterly immaculate. He looked flushed and messy and gorgeous and sexy, the rumpled toga revealing a hip here, a nipple there, most of the tattoo.

Blaine leaned forward to kiss Kurt's tattoo. He kissed it very, very softly, sure that it was still as sensitive as his own, and wondered at how bright and vibrant it might look when the protective seal finally came off. It was already clear that it was beautiful work, astounding work, really, because it did what Blaine would have thought an impossible task: it actually made Kurt even more stunning.

Because it was a work of art and so was Kurt. And even more than that, Blaine's breath hitched when he looked at it because of what it really _was._  Kurt had literally had his love for Blaine tattooed onto his body. No matter where either of them went or what they did in this lifetime, those matching pieces of art would be there, at home on their bodies, a part of them both.

Blaine would wear his tattoo proudly, always. And he knew that Kurt would too.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked softly. Blaine was kneeling between Kurt's spread legs, staring at Kurt's tattoo, his eyes soft and unfocused.

"Sorry," Blaine said quietly with a crooked smile. "I was just...I was looking at it and thinking about it. What it means."

Kurt smirked, but there was softness in his eyes. "It means that I am your husband. And as such, perhaps I need to remind you not to neglect your husbandly du-  _ohhh!"_

Now Blaine was the one smirking, as he had interrupted Kurt's rant to begin teasing his entrance with oil-slicked fingers.

"Gods, Blaine," Kurt sighed as Blaine worked at him with exaggerated slowness.

"Were you going to accuse me of neglecting my husbandly duties?" Blaine asked. "I'm not sure I know what you mean, Kurt. Tending the garden, perhaps? Sweeping the floor? Or maybe  _this?"_

Kurt cried out with pleasure and bucked his hips as Blaine slid a finger inside of him.

Blaine swallowed hard. "God, Kurt, it's only been a week, and you..."

Blaine forced himself to try and breathe normally. He had never felt Kurt this tight before.

Blaine pulled his finger out and coated it and another with flower oil before pushing both into Kurt, as slowly and gently as he could.

"Kurt, tell me if it hurts, all right?"

"Mmmm...feels good, Blaine. Feels  _wonderful,"_  Kurt murmured, his eyelids heavy and his pupils blown wide. He spread his legs wider.

Blaine took his time working Kurt open, rubbing against the nub inside of him and making him writhe and arch and moan until Blaine simply couldn't take it anymore.

Blaine sat back on his heels for a moment just to drink Kurt in with his eyes one last time before reaching under him to lift him slightly, Kurt instinctively wrapping his legs around Blaine's waist.

Blaine gripped Kurt's hips tightly and finally let himself sink into his husband's body, and  _yes,_  oh God,  _yes,_  how had he gone a week without this? How had he gone a  _day?_

Blaine fell forward, landing on shaking arms. Kurt was staring up at him and panting, and as Blaine began to move, Kurt lifted a hand to delicately trace Blaine's tattoo.

Before long, Kurt had given up on the tracing and simply had his palm pressed against the tattoo, his other hand gripping Blaine's side as he lifted his hips to meet every one of Blaine's thrusts. Blaine was moaning and grunting and every now and again Kurt heard his own name in the mix, and  _gods,_  it was so good. Blaine was sweating and the muscles in his arms were straining and he was so fucking beautiful and he was _Kurt's_ and it made Kurt start to cry softly, his groans of pleasure tangling around the sobs. But Blaine knew by now, he  _knew_  what it meant, knew that Kurt was crying because it was so good, because it was overwhelming, because he just loved Blaine so much that he couldn't stand it.

Blaine stopped his movements and wrapped his arms around Kurt, pulling Kurt with him as he sat back on his knees with Kurt on top of him, facing him.

Kurt began to raise and lower himself onto Blaine, whimpering with the intensity of blinding pleasure he felt as Blaine kept hitting that spot inside of him over and over and over again. Blaine grasped Kurt's hips, sliding the fabric of the toga up to his waist as they worked together, the garment slipping off Kurt's shoulders completely and settling at his elbows. Kurt laced his fingers into Blaine's hair and leaned down to kiss him, Blaine responding hungrily.

Kurt was moving up and down hard and fast, whimpering and sobbing and crying out into Blaine's mouth. Blaine felt his head drop onto Kurt's shoulder, and he gritted his teeth and groaned desperately. God, he was  _so_ close. He began to move a hand from Kurt's hip, intending to stroke his husband to completion, but before he could even start Kurt threw his head back and screamed, wet warmth bursting across Blaine's stomach and chest. Kurt clenched and released around Blaine, squeezing around him like the rhythm of a beating heart, over and over again as Kurt rode out his orgasm for what felt like  _hours._ And he hadn't come close to finishing before Blaine joined him, coming deep inside of Kurt, squeezing his hips and pushing up into him as hard and deep as he could, calling out with words that weren't words at all, riding out the aftershocks until they both collapsed.

It took several moments before they could even attempt speech.

They lay tangled, Kurt's head on Blaine's chest, just breathing. It was all they could manage.

Finally, Kurt murmured Blaine's name.

"Hmmm?" Blaine asked, not even opening his eyes. He had never come so hard in his life and he wasn't sure he could so much as move a single eyelid.

"Do you mind if I take this off now? It's...uh...kind of ruined anyway."

"Oh...sorry 'bout that," Blaine muttered sheepishly.

Kurt laughed softly. "It's fine, Blaine. It was worth it. And it isn't as if I'm going to wear it again."

Blaine simply hummed at this, and felt Kurt's warm weight move off of him. He felt Kurt dab at his stomach and chest with the toga, cleaning him up, and he had to laugh.

A moment later, Blaine felt Kurt settle back in next to him, and he summoned the energy to lift his arm to wrap around Kurt as he settled his head back on Blaine's chest.

"Blaine?"

"Hmmm?"

"That was...incredibly fantastic."

"God, yes. I can't even open my eyes."

Kurt laughed softly, and began stroking Blaine's navel.

"Blaine?"

"Hmmm?"

"Did...did you really love me the first time you saw me?"

Blaine couldn't help but feel his face split into a wide grin. Kurt knew the answer to this; Blaine had told him about it at least two dozen times. But Kurt loved hearing the story, and Blaine loved telling it to him.

"From the first second I laid eyes on you. It was so horrible, what they were doing to you, but I could just see it in your eyes...how strong you were. How brilliant and fierce and perfect. I knew I had to save you."

"But what if I hadn't loved you back?"

"I would have done it anyway. Even if you'd never so much as touched me. Even if you'd never spoken a kind word to me. I still would have done anything in the world to keep you safe."

Kurt sighed happily and pressed a soft kiss to Blaine's tattoo. He still remembered, far too vividly, his years of enslavement. The pain, the torture, the sheer brutality. But it had brought Blaine to him. And Blaine had seen him and Blaine had fallen in love with him. He hadn't fallen in love with Kurt's beauty or Kurt's helplessness or Kurt's exotic nature. He had fallen in love with  _Kurt._  He had seen into his very soul.

Blaine's breath had evened out, and Kurt was pretty sure he had fallen asleep. "I love you," he said anyway, simply because he needed to.

"I love you too," Blaine murmured sleepily, and Kurt smiled in surprise.

"Get some rest," Kurt said unnecessarily, because what else was Blaine going to do?

"Mmmm. You should too," Blaine said.

"Oh, I will," Kurt agreed, snuggling closer to his lifemate. "Because when we wake up, it's my turn to savor every inch of  _you."_

Blaine held him tighter. _  
_

They fell asleep smiling.


End file.
